> making the content I want to see in the world by doing it myself (primarily genshin rn bc it’s my current interest)
> contains both nsfw and sfw works
> all characters are depicted at 18+ or older
> not an actual “true” writing blog, just a place to put my really niche interest thoughts and misc snippets so don’t expect regular posts from me too much
> always open to listening to your thirsts tho so send in asks :)
• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.
• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore
• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one
The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.
And yet, you can’t. You won’t.
Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.
“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.
He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”
Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.
There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”
“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”
“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.
And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.
A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.
So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.
Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...
Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.
“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.
“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.
In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.
Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?
He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”
A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.
Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.
Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.
When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.
You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.
Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.
The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.
A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.
Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.
So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.
“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.
When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.
Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.
“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”
The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.
Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.
His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.
You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”
And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.
All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.
Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.
All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.
It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.
You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.
Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.
Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.
It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.
Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.
The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.
Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’
He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.
You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.
Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.
It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!
His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.
Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.
You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.
A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.
When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.
How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.
Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.
In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.
Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.
Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.
But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?
• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.
• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore
• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one
The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.
And yet, you can’t. You won’t.
Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.
“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.
He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”
Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.
There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”
“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”
“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.
And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.
A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.
So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.
Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...
Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.
“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.
“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.
In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.
Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?
He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”
A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.
Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.
Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.
When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.
You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.
Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.
The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.
A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.
Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.
So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.
“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.
When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.
Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.
“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”
The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.
Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.
His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.
You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”
And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.
All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.
Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.
All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.
It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.
You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.
Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.
Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.
It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.
Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.
The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.
Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’
He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.
You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.
Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.
It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!
His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.
Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.
You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.
A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.
When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.
How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.
Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.
In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.
Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.
Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.
But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?
• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.
• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore
• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one
The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.
And yet, you can’t. You won’t.
Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.
“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.
He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”
Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.
There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”
“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”
“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.
And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.
A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.
So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.
Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...
Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.
“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.
“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.
In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.
Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?
He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”
A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.
Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.
Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.
When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.
You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.
Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.
The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.
A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.
Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.
So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.
“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.
When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.
Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.
“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”
The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.
Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.
His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.
You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”
And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.
All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.
Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.
All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.
It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.
You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.
Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.
Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.
It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.
Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.
The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.
Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’
He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.
You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.
Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.
It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!
His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.
Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.
You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.
A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.
When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.
How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.
Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.
In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.
Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.
Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.
But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?
>> Being a stay at home spouse for your darling husband. Sure it’s not the life you imagined, but you’re happy nonetheless. Besides, it’s quite nice to see him light up whenever you visit their work for lunch.
Still, it’s hard not to worry when your lover comes home, all exhausted and worried. Even if some of it bleeds away from your soothing touches. This just won’t do at all!
So it’s not a big stretch to say that you two arrange a more... different kind of relaxation together.
Nowadays, when your husband comes home, he doesn’t have to think about work at all. It’s become routine now, cooking his favorites. Soft touches exchanged at the table as you fed him bites of each other’s meals.
It’s all so, wonderfully domestic. Until the curtains are drawn, and you both retire to your shared bedroom. Eager for what was next.
Here, your beloved doesn’t have to think! All he needs to worry about is feeling good, and making you feel good. Babbling out the cutest pleas and whines of; “Mnh- please- harder!” and “Closecloseclose- love ple~ase!” As you rutted into him like a wild animal, fat cock carving him open until he fit you perfectly.
Orgasm after orgasm is wrung out of him, until he’s sobbing. And he’ll take more, even as his legs feel like nothing, even when he feels like he’s going to pass out. Because he’s just your darling pet! Your favorite, dumb slut. Made just to be yours, and you for him.
I kinda feel bad about showing up every blue moon to say “oooo I’m gonna write more” and then I immediately get distracted by a fancy new game or anime...
It also doesn’t help that some of them are obscure enough that x readers (let alone smut) is completely nonexistent and small enough that it’s embarrassing to write for them...
Like fr it’s just me and 10 other idiots here. What If They Judge Me...
I find it really funny when people make elliott stardewvalley buff
Like work it I can see the appeal love men’s tits etc etc and also it works with the 10 heart event
But also compared to the farmer who regularly does farm work, mine, fight monsters, etc etc he’s literally just a funny beach writer hermit (affectionate)
I could snap elliott in half in more ways than one and it’s a shame we don’t have more content of topping him or content of him in general
Canonical (in my heart) malewife who deserves a good dicking down tbh
I’m kinda surprised at the lack of bittys/borrower aus, they were pretty popular in the old spaces I used to be in, and who doesn’t like some little guys
Than again, it’s still a pretty niche interest... but also like, I’ve seen androids/sex dolls aus around so [noncommittal noise sfx]
But it would be neat to think about, especially in the context of a like reverse isekai sagau scenario (I’ll probably make a post about a more general bitty/borrower au whenever I figure out how it’d work)
But anyways like, the characters are pretty small right? Even depending on the screen you use they’re anywhere from a couple inches tall to as tall as the average barbie doll, and it would make sense if they ended up in our world they would be as tall as they were on the screen? It’s also like, really fucking funny
Imagine you’re albedo and you’ve made all these calculations to either bring the creator/player/overseer (back) to teyvat or to go TO them (with a select devoted group of course), but the one thing you didn’t account for is that you’d be as tall as a doll when you cross worlds
Absolute hilarity
This au is also just, catered towards comedy in general. Say one of the more zealous followers like zhongli starts getting on your ass that “oh the world outside is dangerous” and that “you should stay here with the acolytes where it’s safe and you’re taken care of”
You can just go “like hell you are!!!” And just, put them on a shelf without their gliders, what are they going to do? Jump down and die??? Didn’t think so
Though with this in mind, would the reverse be true? Like you end up in teyvat like every isekai fic here etc etc, except the only caveat is that you’re... about as tall as dragonspine or smth
Like that’s a whole other issue I’m not gonna touch BJDNDKDNDK
This is a fantastic idea, my friend. The one where the genshin characters become smol like dolls around the size of your hand is ripe with fluff, comfort and also crack.
Imagine having to accommodate with the smaller character cast, and actually end up buying/making a doll house like structure for them to live in-comfortably.
Time-out jars are a thing and you would have to put Itto and Childe in separate ones often because they are causing too much shit.
Thoma and Noelle loving to accompany you and helping out cleaning the smaller spaces you might not be able to reach, or just watch you cook if u do homecooking.
Albedo, Lisa, Tighnari, Haitham, Collei and even the Traveller being fascinated with the Computer and the Internet and NEW KNOWLEDGE. The other characters realising the Internet exists and them all of them realising their own popularity with the genshin fans oop
I dont know why but I see Zhongli somehow being the kind to watch soap operas on tv along with Ningguang, Shenhe, Ayaka, Thoma and Heizou and then Heizou is trying to figure out the plot.
Venti getting captured by a bird because he got too careless flying around and everyone including the reader has to get him back somehow sjxjdjdendd
Also dear god the reverse is also ripe with its own crack where reader comes in as a huge person and is like oh fuck im so sorry for destroying shit
I think all the acolytes would go insane over huge reader because no one anticipated this to happen.
Cue everyone trying to create giant sized stuff for you as offerings. Meanwhile Albedo is wondering if he could make a shrinking potion of sorts and goes to dragonspine to work on it.
Ahhhh so many ideas hahahha much thanks to op for this inspiration.
Yes!!! That’s what I’m talking about!!!! This au is inherently silly and nonsensical bc sometimes you just wanna hold your favoritest guys in the world in the palms of you hands!!!!
Naughty playable characters get put in the punishment jar to atone for their crimes, which fun fact that was a concept I cut from the original post bc I lost my train of thought for it LMAO
Sumeru characters can probably scale down from the punishment shelf bc of tree climbing experience, but most probably won’t because they’re polite and accept the punishment. A majority would be stuck on the shelf until they’re released from their crimes, and anemo characters can float down. So to combat this you trap them under a cup like a spider
Though I also wonder how many of the tiny characters it takes to operate a full sized computer/laptop
Any use of electro is probably banned from inside if the house via risk of shorting out the electricity and/or killing any electronics in the house-
In the reverse scenario either the acolytes get used to the Situation or there’s conflict wether bringing the creator down to their level/size is sacrilege or not VJSBDNDN
Big reader means any of the big monsters and creatures like dvalin and azhdahs and andrius would be like, lap dog/cat size wouldn’t they??
I feel like I should preface smth before I actually start my spiteposting tag and complaining
Anything I say in my spiteposting tag is not meant to vague, mock, or make fun of any actual users/writers/writing
80% of it will be just me complaining about certain tropes that make me uncomfortable as all hell + my gripes with the x reader writing community as a broad whole
(The other 20% will be me complaining about working in food service or something because customers are ASSHOLES sometimes + general angry venting)
Thanks for reading this ig if you do, feel free to complain with me?
Just saw your borrower au post and I'm sitting here thinking what if it was the reverse. Like reader is the borrower who's been using this phone that someone lost who knows how long ago to play genshin cause the app was already on it and they got curious. So now reader is being isekaied into a sagau teyvat and everyone is freaking out cause "OH SHIT THEIR GRACE COULD BE CRUSHED!!" cause you're so tiny... also what if the vision holders start making little additions to their clothes for when you visit them so you can safely walk around with them, like... a soft lined tiny pocket near shoulder level with a zipper that's accesses from the inside of the pocket so if there's danger while you're with them you wouldn't like fall out and be smushed... also imagine they have tiny clothes tailored for you in the nicest fabrics and materials they can get, and they have like small dollhouses (that each resemble the style of houses of their nation) for you to live in while with them cause even the teapot would be too big for you... plus that's the travelers possession anyway so it kinda feels wrong to me to assume you'd just automatically have access to it.
Yeah!!! Personally I prefer borrower characters bc it’s easier to write + borrower!reader kinda, falls into a fic related tangent that tends to make me miserable lol (but that’s a spiteposting post for a later day-)
Anyways back to your idea- borrower reader would be cute too! Plus the image of tiny reader struggling to reach the buttons on each side is sending me BJDBDKDNDK but like
The comedic potential of borrower!reader not being found at first, the epitome of “Welp, same shit different day dimension” and they start living in the walls of angel’s share or something
Borrower!reader living out the ghibli secret world of arriety DREAM
But also pov you’re venti or kaeya, it’s late and you’re still at the bar, drunk off of your ass. And out the corner of your eye you see a tiny person run across the floor that looks almost EXACTLY like the creator/player/overseer
Who would believe you??? Jean certainly isn’t paid enough to deal with this-
Though there’d certainly be rumors going around with the kids about the reader, like you know how sometimes kids would make “houses” for fairies on the playground? They would start making little makeshift shelters in the hopes that “the overseer’s fairy will visit!!” And I’m sure a certain spark knight would catch wind of this and start doing so as well-
I’m kinda surprised at the lack of bittys/borrower aus, they were pretty popular in the old spaces I used to be in, and who doesn’t like some little guys
Than again, it’s still a pretty niche interest... but also like, I’ve seen androids/sex dolls aus around so [noncommittal noise sfx]
But it would be neat to think about, especially in the context of a like reverse isekai sagau scenario (I’ll probably make a post about a more general bitty/borrower au whenever I figure out how it’d work)
But anyways like, the characters are pretty small right? Even depending on the screen you use they’re anywhere from a couple inches tall to as tall as the average barbie doll, and it would make sense if they ended up in our world they would be as tall as they were on the screen? It’s also like, really fucking funny
Imagine you’re albedo and you’ve made all these calculations to either bring the creator/player/overseer (back) to teyvat or to go TO them (with a select devoted group of course), but the one thing you didn’t account for is that you’d be as tall as a doll when you cross worlds
Absolute hilarity
This au is also just, catered towards comedy in general. Say one of the more zealous followers like zhongli starts getting on your ass that “oh the world outside is dangerous” and that “you should stay here with the acolytes where it’s safe and you’re taken care of”
You can just go “like hell you are!!!” And just, put them on a shelf without their gliders, what are they going to do? Jump down and die??? Didn’t think so
Though with this in mind, would the reverse be true? Like you end up in teyvat like every isekai fic here etc etc, except the only caveat is that you’re... about as tall as dragonspine or smth
Like that’s a whole other issue I’m not gonna touch BJDNDKDNDK
(CW: bondage, sensory deprivation, not explicitly described but There)
-
Tighnari is genuinely the Most Character Ever to me
His voice lines make him sound like a tour guide, he has the energy of a retail worker of five years with no raise, his ear physics are so floppy and he’s my ideal gender
I think he would like sensory deprivation, his ears are so sensitive and sometimes everything can be So Much and he just wants you to take care of him when his patrols and work are over. He’s tied up, blindfolded, and everything is blissfully quiet for once. But Tighnari knows he’s making all sorts of embarrassing noises (even if he can’t hear it), all from your hands massaging out the knots and stiffness in his shoulders from a long day of work. The night is still young, and there’s certainly more things you two would like to do later.
I want to ruin him, I want to pamper him, I want to scratch him behind his ears and call him my good boy.
